


When Will I Forget?

by xseaxwitchx



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, I love Matt, So I had to write it, but this wouldn't leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xseaxwitchx/pseuds/xseaxwitchx
Summary: Matt Holt doesn't have as good a hold on himself as he thought.





	When Will I Forget?

Matt stood in front of the control panel, managing the interface of new data flooding their systems from rebel scout ships. Captain Olia had sent some scout ships out to search for not only food and water resources, but also planets that started to build their own rebellions, trying to recruit those planets’ people into the expensive rebellion already built on 9 thousand years of work.

Sure, he could be doing other things, like brushing up on his bo staff skills or helping teach the new recruits hand-to-hand combat or tinkering with the broken battleships they had in an abandoned hangar...or sleeping, but he landed his current position by pissing off the captain. Word to the wise, never talk back to your superiors in the middle of a heavy firefight with severe casualties.

He sighed, processing the information at a slower pace than normal as exhaustion flooded his body after coming down from his adrenaline-induced high. He had been standing in the same place for about the past hour and a half, the arches of his feet begging for mercy and his back slouching. One hand shot up to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle a yawn, drowsiness grasping at his eyelids as they sagged down.

He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes, knowing his gloves would serve to only irritate them more. His face pulled into a frown momentarily as he took in an odd-looking set of data, then filed it away to a folder marked for unusual-looking data; he already felt irritated and didn’t want to deal with something else.

His collapsible bo staff stayed firmly in its hook on his armor that donned his right leg. Unfortunately, the rebellion’s latest battle required the usage and some areas received splatters of Galra blood as he found out just how hard the species’ heads were; he dreaded cleaning it later and waiting this long, he knew the stains would most likely be permanent. He bit back another sigh, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Multiple worries decided to flood his mind at that moment: the possibility of never finding his father weighed heavy on him, how Pidge so carelessly yet selflessly flung herself into battle to defend the galaxy...but defend whom? One thing that always stayed in the back of his mind and never left: why do the Paladins not try to save the prisoners? If Voltron came to his ship instead of the rebellion, he knew he would’ve died because they slash through Galra ships without seemingly a second thought.

A memory of some time ago surfaced and the video he saw that day never did quite leave his mind.

_Captain Olia stands front and center, looking at those in her command. In her hand, she holds a piece of a recording device found in the debris of a destroyed Galra ship. Matt helped with connecting it to the control hub._

_“We don’t know what this footage holds, but it could be something vital, so I require everyone to pay attention and not zone out,” the captain addresses her crew. Everyone nods, signaling they understand and she can go ahead with playing the footage._

_She presses play and Matt remains captivated from start to finish._

_The yelling of Galra soldiers familiar in everyone’s minds haunts their eardrums in a way it never did before; the only clear picture that of a mother clinging tightly to her child, hope glistening in her eyes as she petted the child’s head, most likely whispering that they’re saved, that Voltron is coming for them, that they’ll be okay. The five ticks of the video after that showed grainy pictures of prisoners hugging each other and clapping and high-fiving, garbled shouts of joy coming through the base’s speakers. All too quickly the scene changed from cheering prisoners to a split tick of fire consuming the holoscreen, then static, the noise harrowing the end of the prisoners’ lives, destroying any hope of seeing family again, any hope of bathing in the star that illuminated their home planets, any hope of simply_ living _._

_No one moves, and Matt can’t be sure if anyone is breathing, even himself. Dead silence can be heard throughout the base with the exception of whirring motors and static from the recording creating a symphony of cacophony. He knows Voltron can’t save everyone, but not seeing at least one Paladin try to free the prisoners beforehand made him filled with uneasiness--to him, Voltron’s job boded an extreme grey area between cashing in casualties for the greater good or straight-up careless manslaughter._

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind, but his brain decided on another path, a memory that belonged to him and him only.

_Purple. That’s the first color he sees as he opens his eyes. Purple smeared everywhere._

_His eyes blink away whatever exhaustion remained from...from something._

_He tries to bring his hands to his face but finds his hands in restraints. Same with his legs as he tries to move them. He cranes his neck far enough down to see a metal restraint strapped across his torso._

_His eyes widen in sudden panic, fear clawing at his heart, breathing increasing rapidly, and a frustrated, strangled cry ripped from his throat._

_As soon as he starts struggling with his restraints and wiggling on what he guesses to be an operating table of some sort, something tall and purple enters the room, the door closing behind him._

_“Well, I guess my lab rat has finally awakened,” the figure says, looming dangerously over Matt’s face._

_Matt stills, giving up on loosening his restraints and fearfully looks back at the face, staring into cold, seemingly empty eyes. He feels a shiver race down his spine and quickly jerks his head to the other side._

_“What is this substance running down your cheeks, young one?” The figure takes one of his clawed fingers and ran it over the supple, soft skin of Matt’s cheek, trailing the wet track down to the young man’s chin. Matt hadn’t realized he cried at any point from waking to now._

_The figure withdraws his finger, bringing it to his nose to smell. He takes an audible whiff, then his face scrunches into confusion, lips drew tight and eyebrows furrow._

_“Interesting scent. I’ll have to break down the compounds of this fluid to get a better idea about what it is. Maybe I’ll have to break you to get a better idea of how_ you _work; after all, I’m not allowed to touch the Champion for anything and you are the same species.”_

_Matt starts squirming with all his might against the restraints, screaming in vain for help he knows won’t come but holds a naïve hope. The figure just chuckles a little, then throws a hard hand against his shoulder, holding him to the table._

_Matt can’t just lay here; he has a family, he needs to escape, he needs to find Shiro, he needs to find Shiro, he needs to leave, he needs--_

“Matt! Matt, what are you doing!? Matt please!”

_Begging? Who would be begging for him? Who’s voice called for him? A feminine one?_

“OW! MATT, YOU’RE HURTING ME!”

_Pidge? Pidge is home with mom, he’ll never see his sister again._

“AHHHHHHHH!”

A high-pitched scream jostled him back to reality. He looked down to see he had Pidge pinned to the floor in an obvious position to easily incapacitate, and possibly kill, her: he had one of her arms bent in the middle of her back, her wrist close to her neck and dangerously close to dislocating her shoulder; her other arm he had twisted and pulled back far enough to simultaneously break her elbow joint and dislocate that shoulder; one of his legs crossed perpendicularly on the back of her knees and if he pushed any more her kneecaps would easily shatter; his other leg stabilized him by being planted firmly near her hip.

Another tick and he would’ve broken his little sister, his baby girl.

Matt shot up lightning fast, Pidge scrambling away just as fast. The horror and downright terror that showed plain as day in her irises shattered his heart because he caused that look on her, he caused the rapid rise and fall of her chest, he caused the scream that hurt Pidge’s throat; he caused her genuine pain that no brother should give.

But she just sat there, a hand keeping her up and the other clutching at her wild heart. Matt’s entire being filled with sadness and guilt, eyes starting to cloud over with unshed tears.

“Katie…” he said, voice cracking in an effort to hold back the tears that want to spill. He stepped closer, a hand reaching out, but Pidge scooched back, terror not edging off one bit. At the action, they both stopped and stared at each other, everything in their surroundings fading to nothing.

He tried to move towards her again, but with every step forward Pidge moved back until she bumped into Shiro’s leg in which she proceeded to scramble up and hide behind.

Matt let the tears flow down his face in silence, barely even hiccuping; maybe he’s gotten too good at silent-crying for his own good.

He stood straighter, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hands, his gloves leaving red marks in their wake. He strode off in the direction of the hangar for smaller ships, chin held high.

He couldn’t break in front of his crew; he couldn’t break in front of his friends; he couldn’t break in front of his baby sister.

As he walked he felt like a prisoner again, hopeless and helpless in what to do; he thought he had his himself under control, but he thought wrong.

He’d punish himself later, like he always does, but maybe instead of filing all night and skipping a meal, he’ll train until he passes out, until he feels numb, until he can forgive himself.

**Author's Note:**

> If ya enjoyed it in one way or another, drop a comment or a kudos! They always make my day :D


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